


So Maybe This is Heartbreak

by nonky



Series: So Maybe Series [2]
Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 02:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13285047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: "You promise me I'm not going to have to rush to the hospital thinking you're gone," he said, strangling the shirt in his fist.Post 3x08, Nathaniel learns he's as new at being dumped as Rebecca is at dumping him.





	So Maybe This is Heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite enough to warrant a higher rating, but naturally there is oblique mention of mental health issues, mention of a past suicide attempt and implied sexual relationships. Spoiler warnings for the January 5 episode.

It was a strange, inconvenient moment for his best bad employee to embrace efficiency.

Rebecca was oddly decisive once her homework told her how to proceed in a healthy, proportionate manner. It was depressing how little meandering she did before she dumped him, even without stepping into the apartment so he could have the dignity of not imagining his neighbours hearing the whole thing.

Nathaniel got it. He understood her dilemma and he wanted her to be well. He just . . . really had thought she was happy spending time with him. Every signal had felt like she really liked him and would have been glad to keep seeing him. 

He had paused too long, held the shocked silence for several beats too much to play it off now. He was kind of glad he'd screwed up on acting casual because he wasn't going to be able to make it believable.

"Oh."

He sort of walked in a circle, like a wounded dog limping away from being kicked. Then he went back and faced her again, just in case she was joking and sorry and it was some terrible meme she'd been trying to do for her instagram feed. Any second she'd give that horrible cackling laugh and turn into her awkward, tender-hearted self.

"I'm really not mad," he said tightly. "I know you were worried about me holding a grudge but I meant what I said. I am one hundred percent past you following my dad around."

Her hand rubbed across her middle and he felt the rift in his chest opening like a lava floe. She looked so sad and guilty. He needed to be sure she would be okay. He'd gotten used to seeing her regularly, and knowing she was somewhere in town. It would be even better if she'd come back to work, but knowing she was alive and working happily on her recovery was enough.

He couldn't be part of her setback. He couldn't put that on her. He'd never been a good communicator and she needed more effort from his side. Nathaniel knew he could do more to be a supportive, affectionate boyfriend. 

"I, uh, oh Nathaniel." She couldn't look at him, and his disgrace hit him in waves.

It was failing. He was failing. He was putting her in danger by failing and that was like facing the headlong drop he'd felt driving Paula to the hospital while the ambulance rushed to save Rebecca's life. 

"Just come in and we'll talk. I can do better with the talking. I know I'm not a professional and maybe Dr. Shin thinks I'm a bad risk, but I promise I'm not. I care about you and I want to see you. Please don't do this!"

Her head was shaking in continuous silent rejection, tears in her eyes and her arms clamped around herself. Rebecca stepped back as he reached for her, and they both swallowed hard. 

"Whatever I did to make you not okay, I can stop," he pleaded. 

She smiled soothingly, blinking wildly until she might be able to focus on his face. "No, don't do that. This started out so weird, but you've really been so lovely to me and I've enjoyed this time with you. I can see it being something real - like more real than anything I ever called a relationship," Rebecca told him. "I stole your Stanford t-shirt."

He would buy her Stanford at this point, if it got her to stay. She could have the satisfaction of dynomiting the law library on behalf of Yale and Harvard. Nathaniel leaned on his doorway and slumped his shoulders to be nearer to her.

"I know you did, I thought it was cute," he said.

"It's also step one in the obsessive crap that ruined everything. I'm going to do better for myself," she said, wiping at her eyes with a tissue she'd dug from her purse. "This is all me and my horrible patterns. I hate to lose you and I know I will if I don't learn."

He felt lost or thrown away. He'd never understood her crazy actions so well. If he could just do one big romantic gesture to bulldoze past all the measured, well-adjusted mumbo jumbo of good fucking mental health, they could be together. He could kidnap her and they could sail the world. It would be fine. She didn't need to stalk anyone if it was just two people on a yacht. 

"I'll do anything to make this work," he said earnestly. 

"I believe you would, and I probably would, too," Rebecca said slowly. "And that's too much after a few weeks. So I'm going to hand back your shirt and leave now. But I want us to both be okay, okay?"

Nathaniel saw the lingering way she pulled the shirt out of her purse, cradling it like it meant something. He wanted to use the moment she gave it to him to pull her in and hold on to her, but she braced one hand on the doorframe as if she'd seen the move coming.

"You promise me I'm not going to have to rush to the hospital thinking you're gone," he said, strangling the shirt in his fist. 

Her big blue eyes cleared as she met his gaze, nodding slowly as if her head ached as much as his own. 

"I have a lot of help and I'll look after myself," she said. "And you - You ask for help, too, if you need it. You find somebody you trust to tell them things you're feeling."

He'd trusted her. He'd been exposing the vulnerable parts of his personality that had no comfortable place out in the world. It was easier to be naked with her than show his inner self, but he'd been inspired by her bravery. 

"It's harder than that," he said, knowing he was whining now at someone who'd been through too much in recent months to put up with any of his excuses. He was pathetic, but she tipped her head and paused instead of walking away.

"I know it's hard. It just can't be me right now," she said. "Call the first person you think would help you feel better. I promise people are so much more understanding than you'd believe. Don't be alone with this."

Her quick steps down the hallway made him shudder, and a wave of anger hit Nathaniel. He stomped back into the apartment and slammed the door. 

"SHIT!"

He felt like the cliche of a scary jerk ex-boyfriend the second he did it, but Rebecca was gone by the time he opened the door to apologize. Nathaniel let the door go and the well-oiled mechanism at the top shut and locked like the sensible thing to do still existed in the world. He paced around for a while until the futile, psychosomatic pain forced him to sit down. 

He smoothed the shirt over his lap and looked at it, hoping to see something about it that added up to proof the last two weeks happened like his memories. They weren't selfie people, and they didn't go anywhere other than bed or fancier restaurants than most of the office plebes would patronize. There was no evidence Rebecca Bunch had ever been willing to be his girlfriend. 

He was like redacted legal pages, with black misery erasing him from the brighter future Rebecca had planned for herself. 

Nathaniel realized he was nauseated from hunching forward starkly, rocking himself without knowing he was moving compulsively. He stretched back and hugged a pillow, hoping for a whiff of her shampoo or perfume. The sheets were fresh, the maid used to changing them regularly for decency back when the woman in his bed wasn't the same person night after night. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket. She'd told him to call the first person he thought would help him feel better. His phone was like an alternate reality, full of interactions that traced their getting closer. He knew it wouldn't do any good, but he did it anyway. It felt like a message worth sending. 

Rebecca didn't pick up, and he felt the burn in his chest deepen as he declined to leave a message. He could avoid being that much of an aggressive asshole. 

Nathaniel let his head fall back and took what masochistic pleasure he could in picturing his pain actually killing him like it threatened. When he fumbled for something to wipe his suspiciously wet face, he found himself smelling Rebecca on his Stanford shirt. 

She had been blending into the things that had calloused him, changing his makeup until he could feel like a different person. He'd been trying harder at being good for her than any effort he'd ever made to earn love. Maybe his attempts to please his father had been lifelong, but Nathaniel had learned to pace himself for that marathon. He'd been concentrating all his energy on Rebecca, encouraged when she'd wanted to know young loser Nate the III. 

He was glad he hadn't promised her he would be okay, because he wasn't sure about that. The chest thumping pain hadn't eased, and he didn't have the will to do anything further to save himself if it literally was killing him.


End file.
